Authors: Judi Curtin
Alice Next Door (2 page)
O
ver the next few days, I sent Alice lots of e-mails, but they all came bouncing straight back to me like stupid, unwanted boomerangs. I didn’t know why. Alice was always better with computers than I was. She would have
understood
. But there wasn’t much point in e-mailing her to ask why my e-mails weren’t getting to her, was there?
Mum said I could phone Alice instead, but only on Saturday when long-distance calls are cheaper. I wonder how come she always knows that kind of thing?
School didn’t improve as the week went on. But then, I hadn’t really expected it to. At twelve I was too big to believe in easy solutions.
Melissa and her buddies loved being in sixth class. They sort of sailed up and down the
corridors
, flicking their hair and wiggling their
bottoms
, and all the little kids looked up to them like they were real important.
In the yard, they sat on the benches, and tossed their hair some more, and tried their best to look cool and sophisticated. Jane spent yard time reading books about boring stuff like ancient history. Ellen and Emma walked around in their own little world, as if no-one else even existed. And all the boys played football. Even the boys who hated PE played football. I
suppose
it’s their way of being part of the gang.
Miss O’ Herlihy is nice enough. For a teacher. She smiles a lot, but for some reason even the boldest kids do what she says. She was nice to me, and talked to me in a gentle, interested kind
of voice. Like she really cared. I wondered if she was sorry for me because it looked like I had no friends. Sometimes I felt like telling Miss O’Herlihy that I did have a friend, but that she moved away. Then I thought that sounded really silly, so I didn’t say it. Maybe she knew anyway. Maybe the other teachers told her. Maybe not though. I bet they had more interesting stuff to talk about in the staff-room. Like where to buy cheap baked beans, and quick ways to mark maths copies and stuff.
At last Saturday morning came. At eight o’ clock, I went in to Mum and Dad’s room.
‘Can I phone Alice now? Remember you promised?’
Dad poked his head from under the covers.
‘Huh. It’s a bit early, isn’t it? Bet her mum isn’t home yet.’
Mum kicked him under the duvet, and he didn’t say any more. I knew what he meant though. Dad thinks Alice’s mum goes out every night, and stays
out really late going to clubs and things. Still, maybe he’s just jealous, because he never goes anywhere except to work and soccer matches.
Mum gave Dad a really cross look. She smiled at me.
‘No darling, don’t ring just yet. They might still be in bed. Wait until half nine.’
I went back to my room and waited. It seemed like a very long time. I looked at the picture of Alice and me that I kept next to my bed. It was in a ‘Best Friends’ frame, that we agreed was a bit babyish, but just about cute enough not to matter. Alice had one the same. I felt sure she wasn’t looking at hers. She was probably
planning
what to wear to a party in a new friend’s house. Or wondering which of her new friends to go shopping with. Maybe she had taken my
picture
out of the frame and replaced it with a photo of one of her new friends. Alice wasn’t disloyal by nature, but she was smart. I wasn’t much good to her when I lived so far away. I couldn’t blame her
for trying to make new friends. The thought of that made me really sad, though.
At last half past nine came. I took the portable phone into my room, and dialled the number Alice had given me.
Alice answered after only three rings. Her voice was kind of quiet.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Al. It’s me, Meg. How are you?’
‘Meg!’ She said it in a real excited way that made me feel happy and sad at the same time.
‘Meg,’ she said again. ‘It’s great to hear from you. How’s school?What’s Miss O’Herlihy like? How is Melissa? How are you?’
I laughed. Alice was always in a rush to talk. Like she had too many things to say, and not enough time to say them all.
‘Well. School’s awful without you. I have to sit next to Jane.’
‘Ouch. Poor you.’
Then I felt a bit mean. ‘Well, Jane’s not so bad.
Just kind of boring you know. We don’t have a whole lot in common, you know. Miss O’Herlihy’s nice – for a teacher. Melissa was always awful anyway. And I feel awful.’
Alice spoke quietly. ‘Yeah, I know. My school’s OK. The teacher’s nice. And the kids are too. But they all have their own friends, and I know they’re only being nice to me because the teacher asked them to. They’re kind of polite and friendly for a little while, and then they rush back to their old friends, looking kind of pleased with themselves for being so nice to the “new girl.” My uniform is yuck. It’s brown like your dad’s car. And the material is all scratchy. And the tie is the colour of your old fish’s skin before it died. And our apartment is kind of boring. It’s all painted a kind of light creamy colour. Mum says it’s minimalist. I think it looks as if the owner was too mean to buy much furniture. There’s no garden. Just a balcony. When you stand on it all you can see is the car park. I hate it.’
Iwasn’t sure what I should say to that. ‘Do you miss your dad?’
She gave a scornful kind of laugh. ‘Course I do. Wouldn’t you?’
Then I felt kind of stupid. What kind of a daft question was that?
There was a moment’s silence, and then Al spoke again. ‘Hey, Meg, look out quick. Is Dad’s car there? He’s coming up to see me today.’
I went into the front room and looked out of the window. Her dad’s car was gone from its usual place.
‘No, Al. It’s gone.’
‘Great, he’s on his way so. He’s taking me to the zoo. Mum took us there on Monday after school, but I don’t think I should tell Dad that. He thinks it’s going to be a big treat. I’ll have to pretend to be really excited about it, which is a pain. The pandas stink really badly. Almost as badly as Darren Blake’s football boots.’
I giggled. ‘That bad?’
‘Yeah. That bad. And then, after the zoo, we’re going for pizza.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘You love pizza. So at least that’ll be a treat, won’t it?’
Alice sighed. ‘Not really. We’ve had pizza three times this week already. The delivery boy knows all our names by now., and which kinds of pizzas we like. Mum says that with all the hassle from the move, she hasn’t time to be cooking as well.’
‘Is your dad going to stay with you tonight?’
‘No. Mum said they could be civilised, and he could sleep in Jamie’s room, but Dad said no. So he’s staying with our Uncle John. I wish he’d stay with us.’
I wandered back into my room and lay on my bed. ‘Maybe he’ll stay with you next time.’ I was fairly sure he wouldn’t, but didn’t like to say so. I changed the subject. ‘Have you fixed up your e-mail yet?’
‘No, but Dad’s going to connect up the computer for me tonight.’
She laughed then. ‘Mum tried to connect it, but she couldn’t get it to work. Then she got really mad. She threw the manual on the floor after a while. And then she said all the bad words she won’t let me use. Jamie copied her, and she banned him from sweets for the rest of the day. It wasn’t fair on him, but I wasn’t arguing, not with the mood she was in.’
I laughed. Al was always good at telling stories. I wanted to tell her that I missed her. That things were all different now that she was gone. But I thought that might have sounded kind of stupid. Only girls on the telly got away with saying that kind of thing.
So I told her about Rosie’s new back tooth, and Mum’s new haircut, and how Dad asked if the hairdresser was cross with her, and how they rowed for twenty minutes afterwards.
After a while, Mum tapped on the door and came into my room. She looked like she was still in a bad mood. She pointed to her watch. I held up
one finger to show I wanted to talk for one more minute. She nodded and went back out.
‘I have to go soon, Al. When are you coming to Limerick? Will your mum let you come down soon?’
Alice made a sad kind of sighing noise.
‘I don’t think so. She says after all she’s paid up front for my music lessons, I’m only allowed to miss one if I’m nearly dead. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back again.’
I felt like crying, but that would have been too pathetic, so I very quickly said ‘Bye, Al. Talk to you next week.’
Then I hung up.
I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling. I could see the glow-in-the-dark stickers that Alice had helped me stick up. She had thought of a very clever trick using a sweeping brush and a tiny piece of Blu-Tak. Alice always had great ideas. I really missed her.
I cried for a little while, but it didn’t make me
feel any better, so I got dressed and went
downstairs
for breakfast.
It was porridge.
As if I didn’t feel quite bad enough already.
O
n Monday I got an e-mail from Alice. I was really excited. It was the first one I ever got. (Not counting all the ones I got telling me my messages to her were undelivered.) I scrolled really quickly through it, reading as fast as I could.
Dear Meg,
This is my first e-mail. I hope you get it. I had an ok weekend. Dad took me and Jamie lots of places. He never found
out that we’d been to the zoo already. I had bribed Jamie with a whole packet of
Star-burst
, just in case. I knew it would work because as you know, Jamie would do anything for sweets. Dad was kind of sad though. Mum was kind of bubbly, and nice to Dad, but it didn’t help. Actually, I think that made it worse. Yesterday when Dad was going away, Jamie was crying. I felt like crying too, but I thought that would make Dad sadder, so I pretended to be happy. Afterwards I thought he might have been a bit insulted so next week I might try a kind of brave, sad look. When Dad was gone, Mum gave Jamie and me a big bag of sweets each. I know that’s what happens in films. She’s trying
to make it up to us because now we’re kids from a broken home. She must be mad if she thinks a bag of sweets will make up for being away from home, and from Dad and from you. I’m a bit old to be so easily fooled. I don’t think Jamie even fell for it. School was a bit better today. A girl called Sophie shared her crisps with me, and we chatted in the yard. Have to go now. Tea’s ready. It’s pizza (again!!!!). I’ll ring you on Saturday.
Al xxx
I was all excited. When I’d finished reading it, I read it again a bit more slowly. Mum was nice and even stopped peeling the potatoes to show me how to reply. When she was safely back in the kitchen, this is what I wrote.
Dear Al
This is my first e-mail too. Well, the first one you might actually get. My weekend was real boring. Yesterday Dad made us go to Cratloe for a real long walk. It was pouring rain, but Dad just kept on saying “a bit of drizzle never hurt anyone, sure isn’t your skin waterproof?” That really annoyed me. We went off the track and got lost. Mum got cross and said ‘what if I had high heels on?’ Dad laughed and said she hadn’t worn high heels since the day she got married. Mum pretended to be even crosser, but I knew she wasn’t. Then they got all smoochy, (yuck) and I had to wheel Rosie’s buggy. That was very
hard because the path was all bumpy. In the end Dad had to take over and Mum walked with me. She kept talking about feelings and stuff, so I ran after Dad and pretended I wanted to look for conkers. We didn’t find any, but at least it kept Mum off my back. We had pancakes for tea (yum). School today was still awful. Melissa is as smug as ever. Can’t think of any more to write. Looking forward to talking to you on Saturday.
Meg
At dinnertime, Mum kept going on to Dad about the e-mails. You’d think I’d discovered a cure for cancer or something.
‘Isn’t it great, Donal? Megan and Alice are e-mailing each other. Isn’t that a grand way of
keeping in touch? Technology’s great all the same, isn’t it?’
Dad just kept on nodding. I was really cross, though. What good were e-mails? I wanted a real friend. One I could see, and mess around with and laugh with. Not one who existed only on a white screen, and through a telephone. What kind of a friend was that?
I felt like shouting all that out to Mum, when she kept on about the wonders of new
technology
and stuff, but I didn’t. I hadn’t been Mum’s daughter for twelve years for nothing. I knew she’d be sympathetic, but then I’d be rewarded with hours of speeches about feelings and stuff. It wasn’t worth it.
So I tidied up after the dinner, and played with Rosie and waited for bedtime.
When Mum came to tuck me in, I had a great idea. ‘Mum, you know how you think
technology
is so great?’
She looked at me suspiciously. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, if I had a mobile phone, I could text Alice whenever I liked. It would be a good use of technology, don’t you think?’
Mum laughed. ‘A good use of my money, you mean. Come on Megan. You know I don’t like mobile phones. We still don’t know what they do to your brain. A lot of people might be very sorry in a few years time. Very sorry indeed. I think you’d better just stick to the landline, and the computer.’
She kissed me, and went out of the room.
I snuggled under the blankets, and sighed. I love my mum, but she’s such a dinosaur it’s totally embarrassing. I was sure I lived in the most backward house in Ireland. If a huge
volcano
, like the one in Pompeii, erupted in our back garden, and covered our house with lava, it would surely fool the archaeologists in a million years time. They’d have awful trouble trying to decide when it happened.
They’d scrunch up their faces. ‘Hmm. Carbon
dating says twenty-first century, and we have found a computer, but that couldn’t be right.’
The others would chorus. ‘No microwave oven.’
‘No mobile phones.’
‘No tumble drier.’
‘No pizza packets.’
‘No Playstation.’
‘No video.’
And then they’d go home and write their papers and decide we lived in the 1950s or some ancient time like that.
It’s just not fair.
